The power of the Yin-Yang Tribulation Mirror was undeniable. Qin Yangling gracefully walked to the center of the Martial Training Field and sat down once more.
Having practiced this move diligently for so many years, he was utterly confident in his restraining technique. Not only would disciples like Lei Xiuyuan, who had just broken through the third bottleneck, be no match for it, but even those who had surpassed the fourth bottleneck wouldn’t dare underestimate its might. With this single technique alone, he had ensured that none of the elders would ever consider abandoning him. While many possessed a single Water Spirit Root, none could wield the Yin-Yang Tribulation Mirror to the same level as Qin Yangling.
He sat quietly, not even glancing outward. Though the Tribulation Mirror might seem like a self-imposed confinement, he knew Lei Xiuyuan would inevitably step inside. Most of the Immortal Techniques learned by those with a Metal spiritual root required close combat. Once he entered, defeat was certain.
All eyes were now fixed on Lei Xiuyuan, speculating about his next move. Yet, he merely stood with arms crossed just outside the mirror’s range for a moment before suddenly raising his hand. A shrill, bamboo-whistle-like sound pierced the air as a dazzling flying sword materialized in his palm, transforming into a streak of golden light that vanished from sight.
The sharp sound fluctuated between near and far, swift and elusive. However, the moment the flying sword entered the mirror’s domain, within just three breaths, a series of metallic clangs rang out—the sword was instantly frozen solid by the icy chill. Though it was incomparably sharp and pierced through the ice in the blink of an eye, it couldn’t withstand the countless reflections from the mirrors. In moments, the sword was firmly trapped within several zhang-thick ice, rendered immobile.
A golden flash—Lei Xiuyuan withdrew his technique, and the ice encasing the flying sword dissipated into nothingness. Qin Yangling couldn’t help but sneer, leisurely remarking, “Junior Brother Lei, within the range of the Tribulation Mirror, even Divine Weapons will be frozen. To use mere Flying Sword Techniques—you underestimate me too much!”
Before his words faded, the shrill whistle sounded again. This time, the flying sword spiraled in from behind, slicing one of the Ice Mirrors into fragments. Yet, within three breaths, a new mirror reformed. Lei Xiuyuan withdrew the sword once more, stroking his chin as if deep in thought.
The spectators above held their breaths. Lei Xiuyuan had tested the mirror’s power twice with his Flying Sword Technique, but the results were far from satisfactory. The more such self-confinement-type Immortal Techniques resembled an inescapable prison, the harder they were to break. If he were to shatter the mirrors with brute force like Zhaomin had earlier, Qin Yangling could simply erect new ones, trapping him within the mirror’s range instead.
Hu Jiaping was also troubled. If it were him, he could certainly unleash sustained attacks to shatter the mirrors before they could reform within three breaths. But Lei Xiuyuan likely hadn’t reached that level yet...
Suddenly, Lei Xiuyuan moved. Focusing his spirit, he formed a seal. The next instant, countless massive golden lights surged from the earth, shattering the fragile Ice Mirrors into pieces. Qin Yangling had already soared on a cloud to evade the Earth-Piercing Golden Dragon’s force and was about to raise new mirrors when he realized the golden dragons were unending, their assault relentless. The Martial Training Field’s tiles were already shattered beyond recognition. Startled, Qin Yangling suddenly sensed movement behind him. Reacting swiftly, he erected Earth Barriers on all sides—just in time for a deafening clang as Lei Xiuyuan’s golden light sword pierced through the barrier, its scorching tip halting mere inches from his shoulder.Qin Yangling was so startled that he transformed into a mist and darted dozens of feet away, barely managing to erect an Earth Barrier. Yet before his eyes, golden light darted chaotically as Lei Xiuyuan, now a streak of golden radiance, pursued him relentlessly. With a swing of his arm, Xiuyuan shattered the Earth Barrier with a single slash, the fierce sword wind even tearing through the fabric on Qin Yangling’s chest.
He’s closed the distance! Qin Yangling’s palm suddenly flickered with light as a small Ice Mirror materialized in his grasp. Yet no matter how he tried, he couldn’t capture Xiuyuan’s reflection—his movements were too swift and elusive. The sharp, unstoppable force of the Metal element immortal technique, combined with its lightning speed, left Qin Yangling dazzled. For a moment, the Martial Training Field seemed filled with countless golden silhouettes, real and illusory, impossible to distinguish.
Qin Yangling hastily raised several Earth Barriers, each shattered in an instant. Then, a sudden pain pierced his back—the tip of a sword had stabbed half an inch into his spine. With a cry of agony, he erected another Earth Barrier, followed by multiple Ice Mirrors encircling him, their surfaces facing outward. But the golden figure had already retreated into the distance. Several golden mist-like energies swirled forth, shattering the Ice Mirrors into fragments. Lei Xiuyuan spread his arms, and the golden mist suddenly transformed into a radiant net, ensnaring Qin Yangling in an inescapable trap.
In Lei Xiuyuan’s hand, the golden light sword morphed into a long golden bow, its string drawn taut with three gleaming golden arrows. He pulled the bowstring back like a full moon, then released—three arrows shot forth like meteors, howling toward Qin Yangling, still trapped in the golden net.
The first two arrows obliterated the last two Earth Barriers. Qin Yangling had no time to react before a searing pain erupted in his shoulder—the third arrow pierced through his collarbone and soared into the sky. The sheer, brutal force of the impact sent him flying backward.
This series of immortal techniques was executed with blinding speed and ferocity. The surrounding disciples were too stunned to even gasp—this was what true magical combat looked like! Compared to this, the previous matches seemed like child’s play.
Just as Lei Xiuyuan prepared to press his advantage, his feet suddenly froze—as if trapped by something. A flicker of surprise crossed his mind as he noticed a palm-sized Ice Mirror had appeared behind him. He shattered it with a slash, but in that instant, his vision blurred—countless Ice Mirrors materialized once more. Transforming into golden light, he retreated hastily, but it was too late. Unavoidable frost encased his legs, the bone-chilling cold sapping his strength and sealing his immortal techniques. The golden light sword in his hand dimmed, fading into nothingness.
Qin Yangling slowly rose from the ground, his appearance utterly disheveled. His disciple uniform was stained with blood in several places, and his shoulder bore a gaping, bloody wound. His face contorted in pain as he hastily conjured a Healing Net, his eyes glaring venomously at the frozen Lei Xiuyuan.
"Junior Brother Lei, you’re still too green," he spat through gritted teeth, panting heavily before sinking back to the ground. "I’ll repay you for these wounds—slowly."
A tiny flying sword, no larger than a finger, materialized in his palm, emitting a faint hum. It spiraled upward before darting forward, grazing Lei Xiuyuan’s cheek. A red mark appeared, and only after a long moment did blood begin to seep out.
Dongyang Zhenren suddenly spoke, "As I said before—any act of malicious harm will immediately invalidate this match!"Qin Yangling laughed a few times: "Elder Dongyang, I merely froze him and scratched his face a little. Can that really be called malicious harm? Didn't you notice my injuries?"
Dongyang Zhenren felt a growing anger within: "Participants can surrender during the match. All of you, remember this rule well!"
His intention was to remind Lei Xiuyuan not to be stubborn. Qin Yangling's cultivation was already superior to his, and being frozen by the Yin-Yang Tribulation Mirror made escape utterly impossible. There would be no shame in surrendering. But if he insisted on holding out without yielding, even as an elder, he couldn't forcibly end the match. Qin Yangling wasn't wrong—those small flying swords were mere child's play, hardly qualifying as malicious harm. If there was any reason for anger, it was Qin Yangling's twisted, cat-and-mouse behavior. Using small flying swords to torment an opponent in a disciple's magical combat was bordering on humiliation.
Lei Xiuyuan remained silent, not uttering a single word as the playful little flying sword darted around him, slicing through his clothes and skin one cut at a time. The wounds from the flying sword were superficial, but with countless tiny cuts clustered together, his disciple uniform gradually became stained with patches of blood.
Li Fei felt her palms drenched in sweat. Beside her, Su Wan held her tightly, unsure whether to comfort or rage. Their worst fear had come true—Lei Xiuyuan's nature meant he would never surrender verbally. He was being humiliatingly tormented by Qin Yangling.
Hu Jiaping frowned deeply. Was this kid really going to stubbornly refuse to surrender? His previous match had been fought brilliantly. Surrendering here wouldn't diminish that—it might even become a celebrated tale. The Martial Competition Tournament hadn't seen such an intense and thrilling real magical combat in years. If he kept this up, the match would still be forcibly ended after half an hour, and that would be a true disgrace.
Qin Yangling was reveling in triumph, a soaring exhilaration no beautiful woman's body could ever provide. Another small flying sword appeared in his palm, whizzing forward to sever Lei Xiuyuan's hair ribbon. His long hair immediately cascaded down, covering his bloodied face.
"Junior Brother Lei, I warned you long ago," Qin Yangling laughed uproariously. "The higher you hold yourself, the harder you'll fall. Just surrender—I'm growing tired of toying with you."
Still, Lei Xiuyuan said nothing. Then, suddenly, he moved. He took a step forward, and the foot-thick ice beneath him shattered into fragments. Step by step, he advanced toward Qin Yangling. The Yin-Yang Tribulation Mirror's reflected cold light rained down like arrows, yet somehow, none struck his body. His pace wasn't fast, but his movements carried an eerie lightness and swiftness, as though his body harbored a terrifying power.
Qin Yangling suddenly felt darkness descend overhead as massive clouds of black mist engulfed him. Lei Xiuyuan plunged into the swirling mass. The churning clouds obscured everything within, leaving only Qin Yangling's intermittent screams—each one more bone-chilling than the last.
Shocked, Dongyang Zhenren shouted sternly: "Lei Xiuyuan! Lei Xiuyuan! Disperse the Dark Clouds Obscuring the Sun at once!"Li Fei was stunned, as was everyone else. No one could quite comprehend what had just happened in that instant to turn the tide of battle so drastically. Ri Yan twitched his ears, his unblinking eyes fixed on the mass of dark clouds before suddenly showing a look of disdain. He scoffed, "Thought he was about to unleash some divine might! Hmph! To resort to such a disgraceful, low-tier Immortal Technique!"
No sooner had he spoken than a figure tumbled out from the thick Dark Clouds Obscuring the Sun—it was Qin Yangling. He rolled wildly on the ground, neither crying nor laughing, his continuous screams of agony mingling with tears and snot smeared across his face.
Dongyang Zhenren hurriedly landed beside him. Upon closer inspection, he found himself torn between laughter and exasperation. Was this... the Tickle Spell? And by the looks of it, the spell had been cast without restraint. Qin Yangling writhed uncontrollably from the unbearable itch, alternating between sobs and hysterical laughter like a madman. Forget about using Immortal Techniques—he probably couldn’t even stand up, covered head to toe in mud from his frantic rolling.
As the dense clouds gradually dispersed, Lei Xiuyuan’s figure emerged on the shattered Martial Training Field, his expression as impassive as ever. With a sudden flick of his hand, he dispelled the Tickle Spell from Qin Yangling. The poor senior brother finally stopped screaming, collapsing unconscious with barely a breath left.
Lei Xiuyuan had won! The surroundings fell into absolute silence at first, but soon erupted into deafening uproar, shaking the entire city like an earthquake. After a brief salute, he soared into the sky on a cloud. Ahead of him, many rushed forward to greet him—Deng Xiguang, flailing his arms and babbling incoherently; Su Wan, spinning in circles and hopping excitedly; Hu Jiaping, his jaw practically on the ground; and numerous disciples from Shining Light Peak.
His eyes searched for one particular figure when suddenly he felt a tight embrace—Li Fei had thrown herself at him, hugging him fiercely in full view of everyone.
She still said nothing, but her entire body trembled violently, the shaking impossible to suppress. Her emotions were a chaotic whirl—worry, joy, sorrow, and elation all at once—her mind in such disarray that she felt like bursting into tears.
Then, a weight pressed against her shoulder as Lei Xiuyuan buried his face in the crook of her neck. His voice came out hoarse and faint: "Let’s go first."
Go first? Li Fei froze. Suddenly, she felt something warm and metallic on her cheek—scorching blood soaked her skin as streaks of crimson rapidly stained Lei Xiuyuan’s pristine white Disciple uniform.
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